


Consumed

by Loxaris



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Angst, Contest Entry, Flashbacks, M/M, Mention of Physical Restraint, Mood Swings, POV First Person, Prompt Fic, Turtlecest, mention of D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:59:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5321378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loxaris/pseuds/Loxaris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raph recalls the evolution of his relationship with Leo – much to his own chagrin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Consumed

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Pro-turtlecest group contest at deviantART, using the prompt _". . . there was so much more to this than . . ."_
> 
> Special thanks go to my beta-reader [ashleyjordan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyjordan) for her inputs, although I made some last minute touch-ups so any errors in this are mine alone.

It's been weeks since last time I've touched you outside of a sparring session. Jerking off is not enough. I crave it so much – the texture of your plastron, the smell of your skin, the taste of your arousal.

I can't stand it. I feel like I'm going crazy. And yet, I'm refusing to give in. To come look for you and once again wordlessly admit my uncontainable desire. So here I am, lying down in my hammock, stroking myself and refusing to let your name escape my lips. While my senses are submerged in memories of you, frustration washes over me in fiery, stormy waves.

I hate it. I hate _you._

 

Right after this thing between us started, after we screwed the first time, I thought things would get better.

Our first time. It was raw. Exploratory.

We realized that something was different while wrestling on the floor. It's always been there, but that time, in the intensity of our escalated fight, we simply couldn't resist the pull anymore. Short breaths sounded sensual, the closeness of our heated bodies suddenly felt enticing, and in an instant, we were going at each other with completely new intentions. Soon our consciousnesses were clouded by animalistic hunger, the adrenaline rushing though our systems entangled with a new form of pleasure.

We found an intimate connection in our feverish inexperience.

That one time, I could sense your hesitation in your every gesture.

For the first time, I felt like I could truly reach out to you. Like you were letting me in, conceding me a glimpse of what lies beneath your impenetrable walls.

I saw your fervor, and your insecurity.

I thought things would change after that. And they did. But instead of getting better, they got worse.

I'm an idiot.

 

I gave in to your immovable decision of consulting our Father about what happened between us. Despite the nervousness, I knew that whatever his position, I couldn't change the way I felt. But you seemed desperate for assurances, and I know that among us you're the one who craves his approval the most.

The readiness by which Master Splinter acknowledged the notion of our sexual encounter turned out to be the result of careful pondering; copulation is, after all, a perfectly natural animal instinct. Even humans seek a mating partner reached a certain age, and it's not like we have many options given our mutated condition. Since we'd never be able to satisfy our reproductive drives, we'd need an outlet for our sexual frustration. It was an expected possibility that one of us would eventually turn his gaze inwards.

The disclosure of our new relationship to the rest of our family followed naturally from that conversation. Both Mikey and Donnie seemed fairly receptive to our Father's reasoning.

I accepted the settlement with silent gratitude, and yet my insides were churning and screaming.

‘This is wrong.’

‘They don't understand.’

 

No, they didn't understand.

They understand _nothing!_

Sure, sometimes physical attraction doesn't go any deeper than that. But to me, there was so much more to this than simple corporal relief.

This tearing emotion I feel – I don't know what it is, but I know it can't be dismissed as something as simple as lust. The others might never understand it, and I may not know what to call it, but I desperately want you to feel it with the same intensity that I do.

That's why I'm lying here alone, gritting my teeth as I approach release, stubbornly ignoring the fact that I'm drowning in my own misery.

I have no use for a fuck buddy. Fucking you is not enough. Being able to is fine and dandy, but it's not what I need. I need more than that. I need to feel you. Feel your touch, your warmth, your soul. Like that first time.

 

“Bind me.” That's what you said at the beginning of our second encounter. You wanted me to restrain you physically in exchange for absolute obedience. I have no idea of what was going on in your head at the time, but I thought that if you needed a proof of trust, if I could reach you even by a fraction through my voluntary submission, then so be it.

In the confines of the vacant dojo, you directed me through your pleasure. Like you had asked, I listened to your every command without question, quietly memorizing every spot, every jolt, every sigh. There was no talking aside from your terse instructions.

When our carnal urges were quelled and your wrists unbound, we just silently went our own ways.

Somewhere, somehow, it hurt.

 

The rest of our sparse times together were the same. You never came looking for me. You never asked me to tie you up again. You never asked me anything at all – you barely spoke. You barely moved, for that matter. No matter what I did to pleasure you, your responses were always minimal and aloof.

You've never felt farther away.

Even though I can be inside of you physically, each time I am makes me more painfully aware of this growing distance between us.

I don't know why things came to this. Where did I go wrong and what I can possibly do to fix it.

I thought we had finally found a link. A way to go past our divergences and just be ourselves, together.

Instead, I'm forced in this pitiful state while you keep playing your Fearless Leader farce as if you were unaffected.

 

You infuriate me.

I want to hear you scream. I want to see you struggle to keep control of yourself and then miserably lose it.

Sometimes I get scared of what I might do to finally rob you of such a reaction. Even though I'm not sure if I'd actually be able to walk past that line. The aching truth is that it's me who's falling apart.

Yet you – how can you remain so indifferent?

 

I'm reaching my limit. I can't go on like this. But there's no way back, and no way out, and all I know is that the only thing I have left is to wait for these feelings to consume me.


End file.
